


Rough for You

by blakefancier



Series: For Your Entertainment [9]
Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, giving up isn't the easiest or worst option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough for You

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God, it's about damn time!

Unlike other teenagers in Elite circles, Howard wasn't tutored in the rules of Doms and subs, but he still knows what to do. He remembers the Dom boys whispering dirty things into his ear before he punched a few of them in their faces. He remembers standing near groups of subs and switches as they talked about their training. So he knows, he knows exactly what's expected of him.

He surreptitiously gathers what he needs, and that evening, he leaves the lab early. He showers, shaves, makes sure he's clean inside, and spends an hour dithering about what he should wear. In the end, he puts on a pair of underwear and pajama pants.

When he's done getting ready, he turns down the bed and sets a jar of oil on the nightstand.

Howard doesn’t pace. He sits at his worktable, staring at the scarred wood, his hands shaking slightly, his body tense. Waiting.

He stumbles to his feet when the door opens and his whole body is primed, ready.

Steve smiles at Howard and closes the door. "Hi."

He swallows hard and his voice shakes slightly. "Hello."

Steve walks over and gently rests his hands on Howard's shoulders. "You look nice. You look…" He slowly runs his thumbs along Howard's collarbones. "Very nice."

Howard flushes at the compliment and fights the urge to lean into Steve's body and offer his mouth for a kiss. He's not a… well, maybe he is, but he's not a slut. He's not—He gives a startled moan and arches his back when Steve lightly pinches a nipple.

"What's your safeword, Howard?"

He shudders and takes a deep breath. He can still say no to the whole thing, right here, right now. All he has to do is step away and ask Steve to go. Giving his safeword means he's willing to play.

"Howard? I need your safeword. And look at me, please."

He lifts his gaze to Steve's. "Stall."

"Stall." Steve nods and steps back. "Take off your pants."

Howard's stomach does a little flip and his face heats, but he quickly tugs off his pants and steps out of them. He looks over at the far wall so he doesn't have to see Steve's reaction.

"The front of your underwear is wet." Steve slowly trails a finger down Howard's torso and doesn't stop until he reaches the waistband of Howard's shorts. "Is that normal for you?"

Shame burns hot in his belly and his cock gives a twitch. "Y-Yes."

"Take them off, too."

Howard hooks his thumbs under the waistband and… and he can't. He shakes his head and makes a soft, pained sound in the back of his throat.

Steve gently catches Howard's chin with his fingers and turns his head so that they're looking at one another. "What's your safeword, Howard?"

"S-Stall." He takes a deep, shuddery breath.

"That's right. Haven't I always stopped when you asked me to?" Steve's voice is calm and even.

"Y-Yes," he says, because Steve always has.

"Have I ever done anything you didn't want me to do, Howard? Really?"

Howard wants to say yes, but he knows that isn't true. Steve's nudged his boundaries, but never crossed them. "N-No, Steve. Never."

Steve smiles and gently strokes Howard's chin. "Do you trust me?"

He doesn't hesitate in his answer. "Yes."

"Then take off your underwear, Howard. Now."

Howard's hands shake, but he does as he's told, wincing when his cock slaps wetly against his belly, then bobs. He's so aroused that he can feel his cock leaking. He moves to cover himself, but Steve grabs his wrists and holds them at his sides.

"No. Don't hide yourself from me. Don't ever hide yourself from me, Howard." Steve looks down and licks his lips. "You're beautiful. Perfect."

He wants to protest. He's not, he's really, really not, but Steve presses a kiss to his mouth, chaste and closed-mouthed, and it very effectively silences him.

Then Steve releases his wrists and takes a few steps back. "Watch me," he says. "Watch me very closely." And he begins to undress.

Howard's hands curl into fists and his body flushes hotter because Steve is… and he… he has permission to watch as Steve's body is uncovered, revealed: the curves of his shoulders and arms, the bright metal of his dog tags between his tight little nipples, the flat of his belly. Howard's mouth waters because he still wants to lick Steve, taste the smooth heat of his skin. Now he can. Now he will. By the end of the night, he'll probably have tasted all of Steve.

He lets out a little moan and takes an involuntary step closer.

Steve smiles and removes his pants. "Not yet. Don't move."

"S-Sorry," he says, but he's not. He's not, oh, he's not. His legs shake and it takes an enormous amount of effort not to drop to his knees and press his mouth—He squeezes his eyes shut. "No!"

"Howard, what's your safeword?" Steve's voice sounds a bit shaky, but no less commanding.

"S-Stall." Stall, Stall, Stall, he thinks. He can say it, he can.

"Do you need to use it?"

Yes, yes, please, yes! He shakes his head. "No."

"Then open your eyes and look at me."

He lets out a quiet sob and forces his eyes open. He gasps because Steve's naked except for his tags and the urge to fall to his knees is suddenly worse because of it. Steve is big and hard and… "You're going to fuck me," he says, in a tiny, quivering voice.

"Yes." Steve takes one of Howard's hands and pulls him to the bedroom. "Get on the bed."

Howard swallows hard and climbs into bed, positioning himself on his hands and knees. He fists the sheets and stares at the headboard.

"Oh, no. Howard, no." Steve gently manhandles him until he's flat on his back. He strokes down Howard's chest in a soothing manner. "Like this. I want to see your face. And I want you to see mine."

He doesn't know what to say to that, so he keeps silent.

"You're still tense," Steve says, tugging at his chest hair, then thumbing his right nipple, making him hiss softly. "This isn’t going to work unless we can get you to relax a bit. Don’t worry, I know what to do."

He watches, puzzled, as Steve kneels at his feet. Then Steve pulls Howard's foot into his lap and… Oh! Howard moans, his eyes closing in surprised ecstasy, as Steve begins to squeeze, stroke, and massage his foot. It shouldn't be erotic, it shouldn't, but there's no denying that Howard's cock is dripping so much it's making a mess on his belly. He finds himself sinking into the pleasure, losing himself in the pressure of Steve's hands.

By the time Steve moves on to Howard's other foot, he's well on his way to becoming completely boneless.

When Steve is finished with Howard's feet, he slowly works his way up Howard's legs, massaging calves, then thighs. It's so good, it feels good, that Howard doesn't even tense when Steve spreads Howard's legs.

"Howard," Steve says softly, his hands on Howard's hips, gently rubbing circles with his thumbs.

He opens his eyes slowly, his eyelids feel heavy, and he makes a questioning sound.

Steve smiles, reaches up, and takes off his dog tags. "I want you to wear these. Will you?"

Howard stares at them for a long moment, then reaches out to touch the skin-warmed metal. He should say no, but every part of him yearns for it. Wants it. Needs it. He's so tired of fighting. It hurts. "Yes."

"Thank you." Steve slips it over Howard's head and arranges the tags flat against his chest. "You know what this means?"

His breath hitches in his throat and he nods. "Y-Yours."

"Yeah, you're mine." Steve plucks the jar of oil from the nightstand and opens it. He dips his fingers into the jar, until they're slick and shiny. "Ever done this before?"

"N-No. Just…" His face turns red, but he won't lie. "Just toys."

Steve nods and puts the oil back on the nightstand. Then Howard's pulled closer so that his lower back is supported by Steve's thighs, his legs sprawled out on either side of Steve's body. "Tell me if I hurt you."

"All right," he says, his voice shaking.

Steve touches him, stroking slick fingers against his opening, making him shudder and close his eyes. "I'll always take care of you, Howard. I'll always give you what you need."

The words go straight through him and he gasps softly. He wants to believe those words, he wants to believe so badly, but he knows how people lie. He's seen it: to family, to friends, to business partners.

He knows he should pull away. He should do it now. Nothing's happened; he can still give his safeword. Steve hasn't done anything that can't be reasoned away. Somehow. He—He lets out a groan as Steve's big, blunt fingers push into his body. It should hurt, it's been months since he's used a toy on himself, but other than a slight twinge, he opens to Steve.

It's easy, so easy that all he can do is lie there, stunned and panting.

"Are you all right, Howard?" he asks, and before Howard can answer, he curls his fingers.

Howard cries out and bucks his hips as pleasure arcs through him.

"Yeah, you like that?" Steve sounds almost smug and does it again, which gets the very same reaction. "God, look at how much you're dripping. You want my cock in you, don't you, Howard?"

He moans and tightens around Steve's fingers, imagining something thicker, longer. "Please! Oh, God, please!"

Steve slowly moves his fingers in and out of Howard's body. And Howard, Howard can't get enough. He rocks back on Steve's fingers, whining softly, hands fisting the sheets to keep from touching himself. He can come like this, he knows he can. He can come on Steve's fingers, moaning like… like a submissive on his Dom's fingers.

"Tell me what you want, Howard?" Steve says, his voice rough.

"Fuck me," he chokes out. "Please, sir! Please, fuck me!" It's inevitable now; it's too late to turn back, too late for excuses. Steve is going to fuck him.

"You want my cock in you?' Steve curls his fingers again and Howard wails.

"Yes, please! Your cock, want your cock!" He doesn’t care anymore. He's already raw and used. Broken. He's broken. "Please, sir," he says, opening damp eyes, his voice shaking.

Steve pulls his fingers out slowly and a low moan is dragged out of Howard. Then he reaches for the jar again, opens it, and slicks his cock with the oil.

Howard takes a deep breath and spreads his legs even wider. He moans out, "sir" and it feel natural on his lips.

"Shh," Steve says, "shh." He rubs small circles on Howard's hip, then shifts slightly.

Howard can feel the blunt tip of Steve's cock against his opening and he bears down. He grunts softly as he's slowly breached. God, Steve is going so slow, trying to be gentle, of course Steve's trying to be gentle.

"Sir." Howard lets out a huff of breath and squeezes.

Steve lets out a tortured groan, his hips snapping forward, shoving the rest of the way in.

Howard lets out a sharp cry and arches, the pain and the pleasure are almost too much. "Please. M-More." He's always been greedy.

"Howard," Steve moans, brushing his thumb against Howard's lower lip. "My Howard."

Steve begins to thrust into Howard's body; slow, steady strokes that Howard knows will leave him sore. He doesn’t care, he belongs to Steve tonight and Steve's given him permission to feel.

And he feels, oh, he feels. He's hot and full and every movement of Steve's body makes him jerk and moan and ache for more. "More," he begs. "Sir, more!"

Steve shifts again, making Howard groan, so that they can kiss, so that Howard can run his hands over Steve's chest and back and ass. He's filled and surrounded and he can taste Steve in his mouth. He belongs here, right here, under Steve, beside Steve, with Steve.

"Mine. My Howard." Steve bites his bottom lip, then drops a sucking kiss on his neck, hard enough to sting.

"Yours. Yours, yours, yours!" He licks Steve's mouth and writhes. He can feel the pleasure building and he wraps his legs around Steve's waist, holding on as Steve thrusts harder, faster.

Howard is breaking apart and he doesn't care. He wants to shatter. He wants to break into a million pieces, as long as it's Steve who's doing it to him.

"Fuck" Steve says, burying his face against Howard's neck, and grinds against him, shaking, coming.

Howard keens, fingers digging into Steve's back, as his own orgasm slams into him like a bullet.

*****

Howard doesn't realize he's crying until Steve strokes the tears from his face and murmurs softly.

"It's all right, Howard. It's all right."

He takes a deep breath and wipes his face. "It's not. It's really not."

"Why?" Steve gently pulls out and lies next to Howard, stroking his hair.

"My father's going to find out. And when he does, he's going to kill me."

"Why—"

"He's not an Elite. He…" Howard turns and buries his face against Steve's shoulder. What's one more weakness? "When he finds out that I… I'm a… fairy and a submissive, he's going to beat me to death. He said he'd beat me to death."

"Did he do that a lot? Beat you?"

He nods. "Until I went off to college and started making him lots of money. But this… he won't forgive this."

"He doesn't have to forgive it, Howard. You're my submissive and he's not going to touch you." Steve kisses the top of his head.

"You can't protect me. You're… You're not an Elite." He wishes Steve could.

"Sure I can. And yes, I am. I'm Captain America. Who's gonna say I'm not an Elite?"

Howard laughs softly. "My dad's a powerful man."

"So am I. And, Howard, in case you forgot, so are you."

"W-What?" Howard pulls away just enough to look at Steve.

"You're a genius, a slick businessman, and one hell of a weapons maker. The military knows a good thing when it's got it. And you're a good asset, Howard. Heck, you're a great asset. That doesn't change just because you're a fairy and a submissive." Steve leans down and kisses him softly. "I told you, I'm always gonna take care of you. That was a promise and I don't break my promises. Not as Captain America and not as Steve Rogers. Got that, soldier?"

Howard shakes his head in exasperation and smiles. "Yeah, yeah, I got that."


End file.
